Page 45 of A Deeper Darkness

The crime scene techs were also miffed—they’d finished half an hour before and were champing at the bit to get to their next case. The lead tech—Fletcher couldn’t remember his name—shook his head.

“We scanned what we could, but don’t be expecting much, if anything. The maid came Monday. Wiped everything down. She’s thorough, I’ll give her that. All we got was a couple of partials upstairs in the bathrooms.”

“Great. Anything else?”

“You said the maid told you she didn’t see anything, or anyone, unusual, and that jibes with what we’re seeing here. No alarm bells from us.”

Great. A clean house and a mysterious blue truck. Exactly squat.

“Thanks, guys.”

The team trudged down the driveway and loaded themselves in their van, then drove off.

The neighborhood’s natural noises surrounded Fletcher. Crickets, a child shouting in the distance, birds twittering. He gave the place a last glance, then shrugged.

“Might as well go on back to the Croswell site, recanvass there, see if anyone remembers a blue truck. Maybe stop by and talk to Mrs. Lyons again.”

Hart groaned.

“If you have a better suggestion?”

“No. Who knows, we might actually catch some of the folks who’d gone off to work right about now. Let’s stop at the 7-Eleven. I need a Slurpee.”

“A Slurpee?”

“Pure energy, my friend. I think you need one, too. Cheers what ails ya.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

Georgetown

Susan Donovan

Susan had sobered up by the time Eleanor came home from her bridge game. The girls were playing quietly in their room. Ally seemed less traumatized by her morning, though Susan doubted that would hold true during the overnight hours. Sam Owens was on the computer in the den, tapping away. She was writing up the secondary autopsy notes, making everything she’d seen and heard official.

Susan wanted to hate her. She wanted to demand that Sam leave and never come back. And yet she found herself, well,likingwas too strong a word. Understanding the woman. Feeling sorry for her, even. Losing Eddie was bad enough. If she’d lost the girls, too, she would go completely mad. The simple fact that Sam Owens was walking, talking and somewhat functioning gave her hope that, one day, she might do the same.

Susan took one last swig of coffee, then sought out Sam. She stood in the door to the den for a minute and watched her type, a pencil in her mouth. She looked like a journalist, not a doctor.

Susan guessed they must be about the same age, at least within a year or two of each other. Eddie was a year older than she was. Susan had hit thirty-eight on her last birthday, and vowed to stop counting after that. Eddie thought that was hysterically funny.

Maybe in another world Susan and Sam Owens would have been friends.

Susan cleared her throat. “Having any luck?”

Sam looked up, staring through her as if she didn’t recognize her for a moment. “Oh. Yes. Somewhat. I’m done now, I was just proofing the report. What’s up? Are you feeling better?”

“I am. Listen. I was wondering… I think you should come out to the house and have a look through Eddie’s things. I started thinking about that note that was left for him. I don’t know if you’re aware of this, but Eddie kept a journal, religiously, every day. But it’s in Latin. You took Latin to prep for med school, didn’t you?”

“Four years. I double majored in Classics and Biology.”

“Then you could read it, couldn’t you?”

“I should be able to, yes.” Sam sat back in the chair, a longing smile on her face. “He used to do that in school, you know. Everyone thought he was being a pretentious jerk. We gave him such a hard time. A journal, sure, that’s cool. But in Latin? He always was a show-off. I can’t believe he kept it up all these years.”

Susan burst out laughing. The idea of her serious, capable,humblehusband being teased for showing off just hit her funny. Sam joined in, the tension from earlier dissipating a bit. They weren’t ever going to be friends, but maybe, just maybe, they wouldn’t be constantly at each other’s throats.

“Eleanor just got home. She can watch the girls for a bit. What do you say? Are you game to take a ride with me?”